


Jaded

by silkplants



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: APH America - Freeform, APH England - Freeform, Alfred F. Jones - Freeform, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Arthur Kirkland - Freeform, Hetalia, Human AU, M/M, Reconciliation, UKUS, USUK - Freeform, aph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 22:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18270362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkplants/pseuds/silkplants
Summary: Arthur reflects on his relationship with his husband.





	Jaded

The clock was deafening. The slow, deliberate ticks pounded in Arthur’s forehead, each passing moment making his husband’s return from work later and later. He was supposed to be home three hours ago- he’d been late in the past but never this late. His dinner was cold. It wasn’t anything special anyway, just leftovers from the mediocre Italian restaurant they’d dragged themselves to for their anniversary. Arthur thought about reading a book or watching tv, but any activity he could come up with seemed to be void of joy or amusement. It was just as exciting to sit and watch the door, so Arthur saved his energy by staying put and not bothering with anything at all.

The door creaked open after another fifteen minutes, and there was Alfred. Bored, tired Alfred who glanced at Arthur on his way in and didn’t offer so much as a hello. Instead, he shrugged off his coat and threw it over the back of the couch on his way to the kitchen, where he took one look at the leftovers on the kitchen island and scrunched up his nose, disgust being the first expression Arthur had seen in him all day. Still, Alfred pushed the plate back into the same microwave Arthur heated it in the first time, set the timer and watched the plate spin around slowly. It jerked every once in a while, as it was an old microwave that didn’t operate as smoothly as it once did.

Arthur followed him to the kitchen and stood off to the side, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“You’re late,” he said, looking up to meet Alfred’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Alfred replied. He didn’t elaborate further. Arthur didn’t ask him to.

Arthur sighed, his gaze lowering to the floor. Where had they gone wrong? They hadn’t rushed into marriage, they’d taken it slow. Neither of them had proposed, they both talked it out and decided when they felt ready. They’d certainly been in love, once- Arthur remembered Alfred’s romantic side, the side that would surprise him by rushing home for lunch instead of eating at the office. He would bring flowers when they had disposable income and he would make presents if they didn’t. The handmade ones were Arthur’s favorites, in fact. And of course, Arthur returned it in kind. Up until a few years ago, there were always baked goods in the house, and Arthur always kept an eye out for rare comic books and picked them up whenever they surfaced. He hadn’t been keeping much of an eye out recently, though. Arthur just..didn’t understand why it all crumbled in the first place, or how they ended up here. They were jaded and tired, and honestly? Arthur knew they were both just going through the motions. Still, Alfred was in that pathetic husk of a man somewhere-

The microwave beeped, interrupting Arthur’s thoughts. He looked up to find Alfred staring at him. He wanted to ask why, but, Alfred turned away and pulled out his plate. Alfred cursed under his breath- it was hot to the touch so Alfred picked it up with a towel instead. Arthur smiled, faintly. Not at Alfred’s injury, but to the memory it resurfaced. He’d tried teaching Alfred to bake in the past in exchange for cooking lessons, but the lessons had ended after Alfred forgot to put on an oven mitt and picked up a tray of cookies with his bare hand. After the initial panic and worry, Arthur had found it quite amusing.

“What’s so funny?” Alfred cut through his thoughts.

Arthur thought about bringing up the story. They’d laughed about it multiple times over the years, but Alfred wasn’t as carefree as he once was and the story might offend him now. Arthur bit his lip.

“Nothing.”

Alfred’s eyes lingered on him, and for a second it looked like he might ask again, but instead, he shrugged his shoulders and sat down, shoveling in forkfuls of tasteless noodles.

Arthur didn’t want to sit around and watch, so he went upstairs to start getting ready for bed. It was late, after all- he’d wasted a lot of time waiting for Alfred to return. He took a shower in lukewarm water. He walked to the bedroom afterwards, towel around his waist as he got some clothes. He pulled on his shorts, but paused at the dresser drawers, contemplating whether he should wear one of Alfred’s shirts. Alfred had liked it in the past, but, he didn’t know if he still felt the same. He didn’t know anything about Alfred anymore. Still, he decided to risk it, wearing a t-shirt he hadn’t seen Alfred in for a while. At least he wouldn’t miss it.

Arthur looked in the mirror. The shirt absolutely swallowed him. It brushed the top of his knees and the sleeves were much too wide. He recalled Alfred thinking this was cute. Was it still? Or would it just be annoying? He didn’t have an answer.

He brushed his teeth and combed out his hair, and once that was done he shut out the bedroom light and climbed into his side of the bed. He faced away, staring ahead at the wall. He didn’t expect to see Alfred before falling asleep. Alfred usually watched tv until late and would come to bed in the early hours of the morning if he didn’t end up passing out on the sofa. So, Arthur was surprised when the bedroom door creaked open after only a couple minutes, and Alfred came in. He didn’t bother with showering but he did brush his teeth and change before settling in beside Arthur. It was…nice to feel him there. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he’d been awake when Alfred came in. They both laid down facing away from each other, but at least he was there.

The silence was tense. Arthur knew Alfred was awake, and Alfred was most likely aware of him, as well. The tension continued to build until

“Arthur.”

“Alfred.”

They each spoke to each other. Arthur blinked and rolled over to face him. Alfred did the same.

“You, uh, you can go first,” Alfred mumbled, slowly reaching over and placing his hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“No, no- it’s alright. I want to hear from you,” Arthur replied. He wanted Alfred to talk to him- really talk to him, not just pleasantries that you say without thinking.

“I, uh. Okay.” Alfred inhaled, taking a deep breath. “Arthur, I’m…scared. I don’t want to fall apart. I just…don’t know where we went wrong or how to fix it.”

Arthur waited to be sure Alfred was done speaking before he chimed in.

“Those are my thoughts exactly, Alfred. I don’t..want to split up. I remember..how I felt before. I don’t want to let go of that.”

“…Me neither.” Alfred moved just a little closer. Arthur didn’t.

“Do you think we’re beyond saving? Or are we just prolonging the end?” Arthur was blunt with his words. He needed to know right away if he would be wasting his time. If he was- there was no point in staying.

“No!”

The desperation in Alfred’s voice surprised Arthur. It might have surprised Alfred too, because he moved back, though his grip on Arthur’s shoulder tightened a little.

They were both quiet. Both of them wanted to make a move but weren’t sure what move to make. Finally, Arthur reached up and removed Alfred’s hand from his shoulder. Instead, he held it, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tight.

“…Alright, then. We’ll try.”

Alfred didn’t say anything more after that. Neither did Arthur. Perhaps this wasn’t the tearful, dramatic reconciliation Arthur had once envisioned, but for the first time in years they were facing each other in bed, and Alfred was holding his hand. It might not have been much on its own, but, hey.

It was a start.


End file.
